“But Mom, doesn’t Donald Trump remind you of Dad? The way he talks about women? The jokes he tells, the way nothing is ever his fault?” I am expecting her to deny the similarity but she does just the opposite.

This is a great piece of writing from a blogger I’ve never met, but I’m posting it here because I so appreciate this piece of writing. –MB I’m scared to post this. I’m afraid of alienating people I love, people I interact with on a daily basis, people whose friendships I value. I wouldn’t say…Read more »

When I was 15 years old, walking to a bookstore in Boston, I was followed by 3 white guys in a pick up truck. They called me a dyke and a cunt. They spit at me and threw their almost-empty beer cans at me, splashing me with beer. One of the guys stood up in…Read more »

Sisyphus, My Father and Me The truth is, I’ve barely been getting through the day. For over a year now, in between clients or errands or chores, I curl up in my bed, or on the couch as if I’m convalescing from a long illness. But I am not sick, nor have I been. I…Read more »

Being a teacher in the field of Somatics is one of the most vulnerable things I can imagine doing. Our students deeply learn from who we are, from what we embody, and not as much from what we tell them. This is why I have always skirted around the edges of teaching, not really wanting…Read more »